


Always and Forever

by LeviMaez



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Eventual Romance, Gay Male Character, Hogwards second year, M/M, Male Slash, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, One-Sided Attraction, Underage - Freeform, planning while writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-03-30 08:51:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13948086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviMaez/pseuds/LeviMaez
Summary: There is a little bakery that is named Little Italia. There, resided a child that held strong magical abilities. His name is Quinten. With no parents, he lives with his Aunt and Uncle on the second floor, first room from the staircase. For almost a year, he lost contact with his best friend Harry Potter. Quinten, the odd and queer child, has developed feelings for his best friend for quite some time. It is true that birds with the same feather flock together. Even though he is the ripe age of ten, turning eleven, Hogwarts will prove to be a difficult time for the two of them. They have proven to be intimate with each other, but as they grow older, how will their stories play out? Is this 'love' meant to be?(I'm terrible at summaries. The story is better.)





	1. A Very Very Late Birthday

"When you come back, we are going to have some dinner. Make sure to bring your friend." A large and burly man handed a pristine white box onto the front basket of his nephew's bicycle. The back basket was full of wrapped goodies and sweetbreads. The man is tall with masculine features from the short curly hair to the square jaw, broad shoulders and muscular arms. Though he looked strong, he had a small stomach that he had acquired over the years from his profession. His smock was littered with dried dough, flour, and cake batter that splattered across. "And make sure Mrs. Harris doesn't have to go down the stairs, she is so old that she might die trying, the stubborn woman." His Italian accent stuck out like a sore thumb within the English town. It was unusual from the small townspeople who had British accents and fair skin.

A ten, almost eleven, year old boy nodded his head and looked up at his Uncle with a smile, his usual stormy grey eyes glittering like small jewels. "Yes, Uncle Toni." His golden, olive skin glistened in the hot summer's heat. He wore the bakery's uniform that conspired of black shorts and a crisp white button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up so that his arms could get some kind of breeze. The long black tube socks were rolled down. The nephews sparkling and polished shoes glistened, almost sweating themselves if they could. This was his last run of the day and he could bring his friend home from working hard and quickly, like a perfect runner. "I'm going now! I'll try to bring him back with me!"

"Okay, be safe Quinten!" 

The boy looked back and waved to his uncle while riding forwards. He easily zipped in between people, pedaling through the streets when he could and making his deliveries. One after another, they paid Quinn the amount that is due. Putting the money in the fanny pack on his waist, he went back to his bicycle to Mrs. Harris's house on Privet Dr. She is a quiet old woman who had far too many cats for her own good. Quinn softly smiled at them, kicking down the kickstand with a swoop. He could almost hear the old woman from where he was. Quickly, he took a box of cannolis and ran up the stairs to knock on Mrs. Harris's door. Ringing the bell, the chime caused the cats to peer through the window out of curiosity. "Meow meow, kitties." Pushing up to the tips of his toes, he took the door knocker and clacked it against the dark wood. "Mrs. Harris, Mrs. Harris, I have your order, Ma'am!" 

The door moaned as it was opened to reveal an elderly, white-haired woman with a slight hunch. Her dark and beady eyes peered at his pale locks, moving to examine the boy. "Hmm..." She grumbled lowly to herself before clearing her throat. Everything she did was like it was in slow motion from reaching into her pocket to fish out the money to hand it over. One of her cats, Midnight, brushed against her leg with affection, her emerald eyes peering up at the Italian looking boy before meandering over to him and pressing against his legs as well. Quinn let out a soft giggle, leaning down and petting her. When he did, she purred loudly in response, pushing against his hand for more. "Ten pounds... And forty pence..." Mrs. Harris held out her hand with the money.

Quinn looked up and peered at the hand, counting the money quickly. Her hand held the money but also various types of hard candy were littered in the bunch. The Italian boy looked up at Mrs. Harris, her black eyes glittering with happiness. Trading, Quinn handed her the box that was tied with a blue ribbon, the woman gingerly taking the box with two hands. Those glittering gems hungrily eyed the box, licking her lips in anticipation of the sweets that were given. "Thank you for your patronage, would you like another order in the future?" Getting out a notepad and pencil, he peered at the elderly woman. She was about to go back into the house but when the offer to get more arose, she hesitantly looked at the innocent looking boy. "We have these new sweetbreads that have a strawberry filling and a powdered sugar coating. They are a pretty nice size, enough to fill a family if you order enough."

He knew how to work in a sale for sure.

Mrs. Harris's quickly went back to the boy and hummed. "I'll take three, is that enough?"  
"Get five and I can give you a discount." Growling softly, the sweet crazed woman nodded her head to the young boy. He knew that she had an infinity for anything sweet and loved trying out new things. "It will come out to twenty pounds even, Mrs. Harris. Would you like to pay now and have it same time next week?" A jerking nod came from Mrs. Harris before she quickly backed into her home. Midnight, who was watching the transaction, slid past the old woman's leg, pressing against it and then fading back into the darkness. If one couldn't tell, she is quite the peculiar woman who kept to herself. She did have children and grandchildren but she couldn't travel too far.

Writing down the order, Quinn quickly went back to his bike to deliver his last package. Mrs. Harris disappeared back into her pristine home. With an erratic heart, Quinn pedaled to the middle of the culdesac. There was a woman in a beautiful dress, tending to her garden. She had a flat straw hat and white gardening gloves that are worn from over the years. "Ciao Bella!" Quinn called out to the woman with the smile that he always fixed on his face when he was around her. She was thin and blonde and has nearly twice the usual amount of neck which came in use when she turned her head around to look at the boy. She smiled her thin lips at him.  
Parking his bicycle at the front sidewalk, Quinn pulled down his kickstand. The fake smile on his lips was undetectable to Petunia. "I have your order, pezzo di mierda." With a sing-song voice, he took the large box and winked at the woman. 

"Get out here now boy!" Petunia barked out loud, waiting for her own nephew to come out. Finally, a small boy with messy black hair and gorgeous eyes came out, looking at his Aunt. "Show him where to put the pastries and give him the money. You better be ready." 

Quinn's cheeks flushed softly as he looked at his friend. He shyly went over to the male and followed him inside. The house was nice, that is for sure, but very clean. It was the 'perfect' home if one could call it that. "H-How are you doing Harry?" The Italian asked, holding the box close to his body so that there would be no damage done to it. Moving down the hallway and into the kitchen, Harry quickly pushed up his round glasses before taking the pastry box and handing over the money. The British boy was in a similar uniform as Quinn but his shoes were a dull black, old and worn, unlike Quinn's pristine ones. The tanned boy leaned forward and pulled his friend into a hug, wrapping his arms around the thin male and kissing both cheeks affectionately. "You're so quiet Harry, I haven't heard from you in a year and barely seen you this summer! They said that they sent you-- Ugh!" 

Quinn jolted to the side and peered over at the large ball of lard that rudely shoved him over. "Move over." It said, putting its grubby fingers on the package. The cardboard box ripped loudly, the ribbon thrown to the side like it was nothing. Quinn looked at Harry's cousin, Dudley, with anger and frustration but also disgust. The pasty doughboy shoved a cannoli into his mouth, gorging on the sweet concoction. The filling drooled out of the sweet and onto Dudley's grotesque fingers, only to be claimed within his mouth.

"Disgustoso porco...!" Quinn hissed at the gorging male before taking Harry's hand and leading him out of the house, the money owed to the other. Petunia looked at the two and watched them with mild interest. She clapped her hands together to get the remaining dirt off of the gloves.

She looked like she was levitating over to them, gliding over the grass blades but not crushing them under her feet. Petunia yanked Harry's ear and hissed at the boy with malice, those disgusting dark brown eyes reminded Quinn of burnt chocolate. "You better work hard. If I hear one complaint from them, I will punish you myself." Harry grimaced and bore through the painful act, trying not to aggravate the woman any further or else he would get in more trouble. "I don't want you talking about your freaky friends or about that damn school, got it?"  
Quinn kicked the kickstand up and put a foot on the pedal once Harry was on the rear bike rack and extending his legs for a good stretch. The Italian boy pedaled like there was no tomorrow and for him, it really seemed that way. Harry wrapped his arms around Quinn's torso, leaning his head on the boy's shoulder and taking in the afternoon air that ran through his hair. It was like he was on his broom again, wishing to be back at Hogwarts to see with his friends and the magic world that enticed him to learn more about it.

But this will have to do for now. Harry peered at the side of Quinn's face, watching an eye that had a flurry of emotions tormenting those gray eyes. "Sorry, Quinten." Harry murmured in the other's ear. He didn't have to talk too loud due to the close proximity. Letting out a long sigh, the bike weaved through the traffic effortlessly. "I can't tell you everything, I'm sorry." The uniformed boys rode the bike in silence, moving down the hill effortlessly and swooping into a back alley. He skids to a stop at a back door, the shouts echoing out of the bakery. The alley was very clean compared to others, wide so it was actually more of a one-way street.  
"You didn't write... I didn't get to hear anything for months, Harry.... Months...!" Quinn leaned his bike against the wall, right next to the back door. Luring his friend away from it, he sat down against the clean floor. "I was so scared that I wouldn't see you." The cool summer air flowed through the back street, the hot summer air evaded the area. "Harry...." The ten-year-old boy sniffled pathetically, his heart on his sleeve for the world to see. Harry leaned down and with his emerald eyes, peered into Quinn's beautiful gray ones. Gently, he took the younger boy's face in his hands and smiled.

That smile calmed down the boy, his face flushing once again and gulping down a sob. "I promise to tell you everything one day, but right now, let's just enjoy everything while it lasts. I will have to leave again in September..." Quinn let out a soft whimper. The half ponytail was pulled out by Harry, petting the soft hair gently. The curls loosened, creating body waves as they were being brushed out. "What will you do without me? You are such a mess." The older boy wiped the tears from his friend's face with a sad smile. If only there was some kind of way that Quinn was magical as well then they could both go to Hogwarts.

The younger boy nodded his head, standing up and helping Harry up as well. Oddly enough, Harry had grown a bit. Quinten used to be a good few inches taller than Harry. The two walked side by side while Quinn looked at Harry with a new but old interest. Taking hold of Harry's hand, he smiled happily and squeezed it. Harry was used to this kind of affection since they knew each other for a couple of years. This was normal in Quinn's family but sometimes Quinn would become a bit too affectionate for Harry's taste. 

Uncle Toni just putting on the finishing touches to a red and gold cake, adding golden colored pearls to it before quickly moving in front of it. "H-Harry, I didn't expect you two so soon! Quinn, make sure to be a good host and keep him company." The tall man looked down at the two before giving Quinn a look that couldn't be described. It was odd as if it held a double meaning but Harry decided not to be too nosy and question it. "Leave your pack on the table and go upstairs, Harry, take a treat if you would like." Uncle Toni flashed a sweet but nervous smile, chuckling when Quinn happily dragged Harry up to his room and taking a yellow frosted cupcake.  
"Okay, Uncle Toni! We'll be in our room, just knock!" Quinn's eyes held a mischievous look while going up the stairs. He passed through the bakery kitchen easily, moving past some of his family members and not disturbing their concentration. The wives and girlfriends were all at the front and selling the products. Course, there were a few males but it was dominated by cunning women who always tried to push the customer to buy more. His Aunt shouted a greeting from over her shoulder to her nephew, only to go back to the customer, bargaining with him a bit. "Come on Harry," Quinten whispered into the older boy's ear and guided the Brit up the stairs. The boy's excitement could be contained, bouncing off each step and guiding Harry through until they reached his room. From what Harry saw, the two-story building was cozy, homely and a piece of Italy that was in Britain.

Pulling Harry through the door, he quickly closed it and turned the lock with a soft click. "Quinten?" The boy-who-lived asked curiously, his emerald eyes piercing towards the boy in front of him. They two have been here before in the average sized room, playing board games on the floor and happily laying in the comfortable bed, talking away about various things or helping Quinten with his summer work at the small desk to the side. The room was somewhat clean with clothing either clean or dirty strewn across the room in various places. To Harry's left, there was a bookshelf with a window on the wall adjacent to the bookshelf. How long was it since he had last been here? 

Quinten giggled softly, hiding the cupcake like it was Mission Impossible times two. Biting his lip cutely, he moved towards Harry and leaned forward. "Close your eyes." He commanded boldly, watching those beautiful green eyes hide behind flesh-toned eyelids. Right there, a small bubbling sensation arose in Quinton's stomach, a blush forming on his tanned cheeks. "Don't peek!" His giggles bounced around the room, setting the cupcake down on the nightstand before getting a candle and lighter that he sneaked from one of his uncles that smoked-- Uncle Julian. Pressing the candle into the cupcake and lighting it, the boy set down the hot lighter with a small hiss when he burned himself. "Okay Harry, on the count of three, open your eyes!" 

The boy's stomach was filled with butterflies and a magical feeling that pulsed through his veins. On the count of three, he was in front of Harry with the cupcake, his cheeks flushed, gray eyes dazzling with happiness-- It wasn't much of a cake but Quinton's eyes looked into Harry's green ones. They held many emotions from adoration to love but the two were too young to discuss such a heavy topic or address it. 

"Happy late-Birthday Harry! Make a wish!" 

Harry smiled kindly at the younger male and took the cupcake from his hands. "Thank you." Quinten's heart beat erratically while watching his friend stare into the flame. The magical urge that he couldn't identify thickened the atmosphere with excitement. The flame started to flicker, sparking different dazzling colors such as green, yellow, red, and blue. It swirled beautifully for a couple of seconds, creating unknown shapes and creating sounds as well. Harry's eyes widened, blowing out the flame and setting the cupcake to the side. Quinten frowned slightly when Harry didn't eat the small cupcake but smiled again like a puppy when the boy-who-lived looked at him. "Did you do that?"

Quinten shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward on the bed, his face close to the other boy's. "I don't know. Weird things have been happening when..." The Italian boy flushed cheeks reddened from their dusty pink, gray eyes advertising themselves from his friend. "W-Whenever I get excited.... And really happy." Scooting closer, Harry looked at Quinten with a big smile. He was just like Harry, his friends, the society that he fell in love with. 

"You're a wizard Quinny! You just did magic!"

The Italian snorted with laughter, matching Harry's smile but for another reason. "Magic? Really, magic, Harry? You are so silly." Quinten giggled softly and wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, nuzzling into his neck affectionately. His stomach stirred happily while their bodies pressed each other, skin touching skin, legs entangled while they body laid down before bouncing up and running to his closet. "Sorry, I forgot your present!" Opening the closet, Harry could see the mess inside it as well. 

Quinn closed his closet once again and quickly went back to Harry with a rectangular box with red wrapping paper. “What’s this?” Harry took the wrapped present and set it on his lap, inspecting the carefully made item. Shaking it lightly, it rustled inside the box before he tore the wrapping off slowly. The Italian watched his friend in anticipation while the item was finally unraveled and unboxed. Inside was a letter with handwriting scrawled in glittering golden waves and curls, just like calligraphy. Besides the letter, there was also sweets that were delicately made. It’s intricate design encaptured Harry’s interest for a moment, looking at the dazzling letters of his initials on the chain. Looking at his friend, Quinn leaned back and stayed silent, watching at a comfortable distance. The bed moaned softly from the shifting weight. The two embraced each other for a couple of minutes, one pulling the other into the bed. Their laughter jingled delicately with joy filling their hearts. Quinn examined his friend closely, happily ignoring the present and small burst of magic that played with the flames of Harry’s candle. He grew taller, became a bit fuller in the face and not as thin as he used to be. Harry’s cheeks were richer, a bit more mature but soft and round. Wherever Harry went over the summer made the young teenager grow.

The Italian boy could only focus on Harry. The untidy black hair, beautiful green eyes that reminded him of nature, lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, round eyeglasses that had a small crack which is most likely from his cousin. He could feel his own heartbeat against his chest, the curly hair pressed against his own cheek softly. Their laughter fell as soon as it rose, enjoying each other’s company. The two boys were close in proximity, breaths jouncing against one another. Naturally, the two moved even closer. Neither one initiated the intimate act, but both consented to it innocently. Quinn moved his pinkish-brown lips that were enraptured by his friend’s lips. He took in a shaky breath, awkwardly pressing and moving his lips shyly against Harry’s. The older boy wrapped his arms around Quinn’s waist, pulling him close. 

Squeaking softly, Quinn moved away from Harry and covered his mouth. His closed eyes opening with shock. His body followed his heart but the brain held it back. He looked at Harry with half-lidded eyes, parted lips, and the magical feeling coursing through his veins. The Brit whispered apologies, moving away as well while running over what he had just done. Discomposed, mortified, maybe even a bit humiliated that his first kiss was with a male, someone whom he considered as his best friend. With no response from the other, Harry sighed wearily. As calm as possible, Quinten moved forward once again, shushing Harry’s apologies while speaking in a hushed tone. “Happy late-birthday Harry.”

He kissed him again.

It was moments like these where they stretched like a lifetime. Even with their awkward kissing and holding of each other, nothing else mattered. Whispers of each name produced phantoms of urgency into adulthood to understand a deep and intense feeling within their stomachs, almost like a coil that wound in Quinn’s stomach like a toy being wound up. “Quinn~!” A female voice called out softly. Quinten pulled away and looked at the door, gasping softly as Harry’s parted lips moved and latched onto an exposed patch of skin on the other’s neck. “Quinn!” Soft thumps echoed through the door and Quinn grew more flustered.

“Harry---” Harry pushed Quinten down once again and bit down on the soft skin. Quinten sharply whispered the boy’s name when a harsh rap at the door made the two of them jump apart. The door opened quickly to reveal Quinten’s nonna, his grandmother. “N-Nonna..!” Her grandson squeaked softly, her piercing gaze looking at the two boys and examining them. She hummed softly, her gray eyes looking into every bit of detail. She was a detective back in her day, every woman truly is one but she found is as a hobby like Sherlock Holmes. Nonna curled her lip, a knowing smirk forming as she glided across the room to take a seat in between the two boys. “N-Nonna, please, don’t tell! W-We didn’t do anything bad, I promise!” 

Giving a sassy roll of her eyes, she wrapped one arm around her grandson and motioning for Harry to be guided into her arm as well. “You as well.” She warmly chided Harry. The older child awkwardly moved into the elderly woman’s arm as awkward as his kiss with Quinten. Nonna took in a deep breath, letting it out to clear her conscious. “You two are fine young men.” She started, looking at both pairs of emerald and gray eyes respectively before rubbing their shoulders. “There was once a time where it was wrong to love the same sex, but,” She glanced at her grandson, smiling at him. “Such an act as of now is still under wraps, but not wrong. No matter what, my dear boys. Back in my day, everyone married at fourteen through sixteen, at the most, it would be eighteen but nowadays,” Nonna scoffed, turning her head upwards while her eyes hardened. “They say that it is proper to wait until twenty or something of the sorts. But no matter, whatever choice you two choose, I will support it. You as much, Harry, for you are as much as my grandson as my flesh and blood.” The Sicilian woman continued on and on with her banter, speaking about the changing morals of society to philosophy with a twinkle in her eye. 

Quinten hummed softly towards his Nonna, playing with her soft salt and pepper colored hair as her Italian-Sicilian accent allured his mind at ease. Nonna laughed softly when she looked down at her drowsy little grandson. The two are still in their work uniforms and the elderly woman would have none of it if they were going to go downstairs for dinner. “Nonna,” Quin whined, not wanting to leave the ample, nurturing, and warm bosom of his grandmother. Falling, his head landed in his friend’s lap, his curly black hair falling around him. Harry brushed back a lock of wavy-curly hair out of his good friend’s face and behind his ear. He smiled softly and closed his eyes when Harry started to card through his hair. “That feels nice.”

As Nonna drifted over to the closet, she started to take out a pair of slacks, t-shirt, and a jumper for the two boys. She could feel her heart glow with happiness and nostalgia as the two reminded her of Quinn’s parents, hopelessly in love and connected to each other through their friendship. “Harry, here are your clothes and sweetheart, here are yours as well. You damn well sure to wear that jumper because it will hide the welts on your neck. Harry, dear, try not to be so possessive.” Nonna chuckled softly at the two boys.

“But Nan! It is damn hot, I can’t be wearing a jumper!” Quinn protested softly at the knitted turtleneck that was tossed at him. He could imagine the weight and heat that it would cause as he shot up into a seating position. “Please Nan, there has to be another way, I don’t want to die!” Dramatically, the grandson flopped back down onto Harry’s lap. 

Nonna pulled on Quinten’s ear, her sharp gray eyes piercing the child as she growled at him. “Don’t you whine at me, boy. I will kick your ungrateful ass from here to Sunday. Now, get dressed. I’ll turn on the air conditioner so stop your whining.” She leaned back and huffed, her eyes then turned to Harry who was shocked but quiet at the same time. Addressing him, Nonna smiled. “Happy Late-Birthday dearie. I hope you don’t mind a late celebration.”


	2. Magical Maddness and Kidnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter to all and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I worked very hard on this chapter, the next one is giving me as much hardship.
> 
> Please comment, I adore all those who have so far. Kudos are appreciated.

An entire night, the two boys spent their time together carefree. There was dancing, mingling, shouts of joy, but the best of all, a large red and gold cake that glittered like magic. Quinn wrapped an arm around Harry’s, holding it affectionately while the older boy ate a piece of his cake. They shared, laughing when the frosting tickled Harry’s nose. The Italian boy was quick and cautious as his lips landing on the nose, licking it softly before pulling it away. Harry stared at Quinten with wide eyes, an innocent blush caressing both of their cheeks. Quinn leaned his head against Harry’s, methodical eyes exploring the green depths of his friend’s eyes. They are beautiful, to say the least, those emerald orbs looked back at him before their lips met once again, moving awkwardly before tearing apart in small pants.

It was truly a night to remember.

With September nearing, the dreaded heat subsided but now there was the dreary rain. Everything is dark and gloomy with hues of blue and gray everywhere. At the same time, when the temperatures started to slowly drop, more people appeared in the shop. Quinten glumly hopped onto his bike with the packages in the back basket. He paced himself moderately, not wanting to slip around in the rain. His raincoat clung to his body. Cars avoided Quinten as he avoided the people. The sweet thoughts of meeting Harry was the only driving force in his heart that made him move. Even as he delivered to each person, even Mrs. Harris watched him with a peculiar look on her face, muttering something under her breath when she went inside. It was when Quinten arrive at the Dursleys that his heart dropped. The look on the wicket family when he knocked on the door, peering at the teenager who opened the door. His body froze, seeing the thinning face, disheveled clothing, and dull eyes that sparked for a moment with energy. Quinten whispered the boy’s name before going inside and hanging up his bright yellow coat. Politely, he greeted the pathetic excuse of humans who are seated at a pristine and clean wooden table that is decorated with delicious foods that hit the nose, making Quinn’s mouth water just from looking at it. Petunia graciously stood from the table and greeted Quinten who looked at her with his mouth open slightly and eyes wandering around in disbelief. They are starving him. 

“Here is the money, dearie. Thank you for coming again, Dudley-kins went through those sweets rather quickly so we will get the regular with whatever you can add on.” Silently, he nodded his head when he took the money then put it into his fanny pack. Quinn took out his notepad and scribbled the order down. His small ponytail kept most of the hair out of his face but there was always his swoop bangs and baby hairs that would get in the way. “If you would like, you can stay for dinner.” 

“Only if Harry is dining with us as well,” Quinten said rather quickly, his eyes darting to his friend.

Vernon’s cheeks darkened with a dark rosy red, those blue eyes glaring at his nephew with malice. “Very well then.” He growled softly as Petunia reluctantly set two more plates at the dinner table. Everyone sat at the table and were very close, elbow to elbow to each other. Quinten sat next to Vernon with Harry on his right. Next to Harry was his no-good cousin as Petunia perched herself in between the two men who are dear to her. Even as they ate, it was eerily quiet until Vernon disrupted it. “So, Quinten, do you have any plans in life?”

The Italian took a bite of food while nodding his head, taking a napkin and wiping his lips before answering Vernon. “I have a lot of things to think about. My uncle said that I could branch out the bakery, start my own. I don’t know, I do like helping people… Maybe a doctor? Or a teacher?” Quinten looked at Harry and tilted his head. Harry avoided his gaze while eating quietly to himself. “What about you Harry-dearest---?”

“Well, Dudley-kins has an interest in boxing and Vernon is progressing very well in his job-- Almost had a promotion… Almost.” Petunia’s dark brown eyes hardened as she glared at Harry, spitting her words with venom. He didn’t look at his Aunt. Quinn moved his hand under the table and swiftly laced his fingers with Harry’s. “That little freak ruined it by dropping the cake I made on Vernon’s Boss’s head.” Petunia straightened up in her chair, glowering at the plate in front of her. Quinn nodded his head softly before taking another bite, wondering how in the hell Harry has lived with them for so long.

His thumb rubbed over the small vein on the top of Harry’s hand, moving down to the underbelly of his wrist and caressing it. “C-Can I… Stay with Harry for a while longer? Maybe go up to his room to spend time together?” Vernon scowled his nephew before jerking his head to nod. Grinning, Quinn whispered to Harry excitedly before excusing the two of them from the table. A dark cloud loomed over the three that were left, their eyes stabbing daggers before going back to their dinner. Quickly and quietly, the two rushed up the stairs and into the first door on the right. Harry opened the door for a friend and then closed it with a soft click. Quinten looked around the dark room. The older boy flicked on the light switch before sitting down on his bed. Hedwig rattling around in her cage, letting out loud hoots and screeches before Harry had to calm her down.

“It’s okay Hedwig! He’s a friend, he is a friend. Don’t worry girl, he is good.” Quinten moved over to the snowy white owl then poked a finger through the bars. Harry slapped his friend’s hand before Hedwig was able to tear the thing off. Harry gave a light, scolding glare at his friend before pulling his attention to Hedwig who slapped against her cage violently. Feathers flew everywhere with her screeches and Harry’s coos echoing in the room. After a few minutes of trying to calm Hedwig down, Quinten sat down on Harry’s small bed and looked around. The room is small but clean. There was a large chest that is in the corner of the room with a desk across from the bed, tiny chest of drawers that had a small lamp and alarm clock. Unlike the rest of the house, Harry's room is cozy. Quinten flopped to his side and inhaled deeply, taking in the intoxicating scent that was embedded in the bed. “They just want a discount on their orders, that is why they are so nice to you. I can’t believe them.”

Quinten moved his head so that he could see Harry as he laid casually on the bed. “I don’t care. As long as you are taken care of… Properly.” Harry sat down next to his friend once Hedwig was done with her tantrum. Slowly, he laid down on the bed, peering that the boy’s back with interest. Quinten didn’t make a single move to turn around, but simply stared at the wall in front of him. Harry moved his hand, his fingers touching the beautifully soft locks that he caressed gently. The gorgeous hair was untied from the ponytail and fell gracefully. It was near Quinten’s shoulders at this point. “Don’t stop.” The Italian pleaded softly, his eyes glazed with innocent pleasure as Harry carded through his curly-wavy locks. As he carded through the curls, they loosened and created ocean-like waves.

“You are so weird Quinny… ” The boy finally turned around and looked at his friend. Harry’s hand moved once again, touching the full lips, button nose, thick and long lashes, and soft skin. Unblemished and smooth with a tanned complexion. The Brit could already tell the difference in skin color as the fall is starting to roll around, the end of summer coming. Harry kept grazing those lips with his thumb, his gaze holding more than one meaning while he seemed like he wanted to say something, though he didn’t for the time being. “You have the nicest eyes. They’re gray but I can see them turn the most beautiful blue.” Quinten didn’t say anything as Harry’s hand moved and caressed Quinn’s cheek softly. 

“I want to tell you something, a secret… It’s in my trunk.”

“Oh? Secrets? I love secrets!” Quinn hopped off of the bed and down to the ground, crawling over to the trunk where Harry casually walked there. Harry felt the emptiness in his hand. Shaking his head, he playfully rolled his eyes at his friend. Sitting down on the ground, he waited for Quinten to sit properly. “What is it? What is it?” Harry gave his friend a sly smile while unlatching the dark wood with dull golden accents. Grumbling slightly, Quinten leaned against Harry’s side and bounced in anticipation. “Oh, come on with it! Open it up!”

Harry laughed softly and nodded his head, those green eyes sparkling with happiness. “Patience is a virtue.” He told. Quinten watched with wide gray eyes as the chest top groaned open. The things in the chest are odd with books about potions, transfiguration, charms, and even magical creatures! There is a wand, cauldron, gloves that have a beautiful color of scales to them, and veils that glitter in the dim lighting of the room. “I go to a school for witches and wizards. You and I are both the same. We are wizards.” Quinten had a hard time listening to Harry’s words but simply gaped at the wonders that the trunk held within it. Everything was new to him but the building blocks to the new world that he was yet to be introduced to. “Quinten? Quinn? Quinny, listen!” 

“Harry, you have gone mad! No, I have gone mad! Oh my god, this is amazing!” 

Chuckling softly, Harry watched his friend go through his things. “Now, don’t just rummage. Rude… Ah, that is my favorite study, Defense Against the Dark Arts.” He chided to the Italian. Quinten quickly pulled away from the trunk with a blush, apologizing. Quinn beamed a wide smile at his friend. A noise outside drew their attention thought and listening carefully, Petunia’s voice called for Quinten to return home, an order’s from his grandmother. “Darn it… Remember what I said and think about it. Also, if you get a letter about Hogwarts, it is real. Now, you can’t tell anybody about this. No one, not even your family.” Petunia shouted louder, her footsteps clunking in the room while she moved up the stairs. For a twig of a woman, she was loud and daunting when closing in on the door. Harry quickly shut the trunk, latch it, and sat on top of it when his Aunt opened the door dramatically. The woman’s black beady eyes glared at Harry before softening at Quinten.

“Quinten, dear, it is time to go home. Your grandmother is going to be cross if it gets too dark out.” Her floral dress for today swayed at her shins, her thin waist hauntingly close to breaking with her pointed nose. Quinn nodded his head nervously before she disappeared down the stairs once again.

Quinten looked at Harry, giving him a pointed look. “This is like Alice in Wonderland! I-I am… I am Alice!” He declared, those eyes piecing fantasy with what he was told. His brain whizzed around with things that he wanted to know, the knowledge that is now unlocked to him. “And you…” Quinten took Harry’s face in his hands and gave a wicked smile. Harry looked at Quin quizzically but didn’t have the heart to move out of the way. “You are my dear Hatter. My Mad Hatter.” Quinny leaned in and sealed his words with a sweet kiss, something that made his skin rise with goosebumps and stomach turn with butterflies. Pulling out of the kiss for a second, he placed another quickly before getting up. “Tell me more when I come again. School should be starting tomorrow but I’ll come again. Don’t you dare disappear this time or else!”

Harry simply sat on his trunk with a stunned look on his face. Quinten could only smile mischievously at the look before waving his hand goodbye while walking out of the room. Quickly, the Italian boy stepped down the stairs and thanking the Dursley’s as he unlocked the door and leaving. Ignoring Dudley’s quips about his and Harry’s relationship, he got on his bike and quickly rode his way out. The streets were barren at this point of the day but there would be a car every now and then. Quinton's heart beat loudly against his chest and with a sweep of his arms of letting go of the handlebars, he pedaled with the wind blowing in between his fingertips. There, he felt like flying. 

The bike swerved around telephone boxes, poles, and fire hydrants. Putting his hands back on the handlebars, he went back to the usual backstreet where the company van was parked. Quinten heaved and puffed softly from pedaling so quickly, he wheeled the bike into the back door, closing it behind him before leaning his bike against the wall of the bakery’s baking room. “Now, where have you been?” A voice behind him was low, calm, but made Quinten’s heart skip a beat. “It is dark out and I have been worried about you!” Quinn turned around to face the elderly woman who stood by the large island counter. Nonna’s face was red with anger, her eyes glistening with tears. She held a box to her side.

“N-Nonna, I’m sorry. The Dursley’s invited me to dinner and I hung out with Harry… They put bars on his windows Nonna, bars! He got skinnier too!” 

Ther grandmother raised her hands and dramatically patted her grandson’s shoulders. Letting out a deep sigh, she closed her matching gray eyes and shook her head. Her long salt and pepper hair wasn’t it the usual bun but even with its elegance that it added, Quinten could only feel sorrow for his grandmother. Softly apologizing over and over, Nonna wrapped her arms around him and hugged tightly. The tears in her eyes finally fell and wetted his shoulders. “I have so many things to tell you, so many.” Nonna guided the child to a chair that was at the bakery’s craft table. It was there that she motioned Quinten to sit down before she did so as well. One ankle tucked under the other, she gave off a regal impression with her slender nose, high cheekbones, long hair, and curves that made her look younger than she was. If it weren’t for the wrinkles on her face, then anyone would believe that she would be in her late fifties. “You are coming of age to get your letter, and it is imperative that you finally know your… About your family lineage.”

Quentin listened to his grandmother carefully, leaning a bit forward in interest as his eyebrows furrowed. “W-What do you mean about my family. Everyone here is my family. Little Nino, Uncle Toni, Uncle Julian…Auntie Antella…” Nonna shook her head and put her hands on the boy’s lap, her eyes peering into his with anxiety. “What do you mean?”

Nonna licked her lips before pulling away. “Everyone here is your family… On your grandfather’s side. You are the last of my kin, the last branch that is still alive, and you must see the importance of this, sweet Peaches. My son, your father, and my family have carried a… A power that is passed down for generations.” She took a deep breath and looked around the dark room. Even the shadows caused her to be wary as if they are people who are listening. “This power is magic. Magic that is powerful more than others. Yes, our house name is Vermillion, but everyone here is of your grandfather’s descent.”

“I don’t understand Nonna. How do two names branch from you and Nonno?”

The elderly woman grumbled softly to herself once again. Shaking her head, the Nonna leaned against the chair with a soft sigh. “I needed an heir for the House of Vermillion. Your father showed promise that he inherited magic so be became heir to the House of Vermillion while your uncle proved to be a muggle, just as your Grandfather is. Your father married another witched, who bore life to the best thing in my life, you.”

“W-What… What were their names?”

The box that was long forgotten now appeared in her lap. It is a bright oak that is painted with red accents. The house name of Vermillion inscribed on it. Quinten peered at the box as Nonna unlatched the single golden latch. There were photos, tiny trinkets, and letters that were piled high in it. The box moved to the table and then Nonna started to file the photos out with a smile, laying them out on a timeline. “They were madly in love. My sweet Hermes, your father, was such a beautiful baby.” She gave Quinten a photo of a large baby with rosy and chubby cheeks. The baby moved in the photo, crying silently before a finger appeared in it and the baby latched onto it. “And when he started courting your mother, Annalise.” Another photo was handed with a man whose hair is straight as a toothpick, short, and well styled but his Italian features made him look sharp and handsome. The woman had strawberry colored hair with curls that spiraled tightly into ringlets and fair milky white skin. “Your mother is French and Irish, while your father is full blooded Italian. They made quite the beautiful child. It also explains why you are so hairless.” 

The two of them talked for hours, catching up on the lost history that was kept form Quinten for the longest time. The grandson nodded his pounding head before standing up. This was too much to take in all at once. Heirs, family businesses, courting rules, family rules, rules, rules, rules--, the chair he was sitting in screeched lightly on the floor. “I-I… I need some air, Nonna.” He carefully placed a kiss on her check. Her gray eyes watched Quinten carefully ran up to his room. Quinten could hear his Nonna call after him with worry. He changed out of the uniform and put on a t-shirt and red jumper on top, getting a pair of casual black shorts that were faded and could be pinned as gray. The information that his grandmother told him buzzed around like annoying bees that won’t leave him alone. A pair of polished shoes were kicked off and replaced with a pair of trainers, the dull grayish-white and the pair of shoes molded around his feet comfortably. The stairs moaned as the weight moved on and off of each one. 

The elder woman brushed her hair to the side, stroking the long hair nervously with her gray worried eyes quivering as she thought. Her murmurs and grumblings threw Quinten off as she is usually regal. She is average in height but her the air around her, simply magnificent. Quinn moved towards his grandmother and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Nonna moved quickly, her glittering eyes meeting Quinten’s stormy ones. “I’m going to talk with Harry. H-He’s… He is my person Nonna. I care for him so much…” Even though his grandmother didn’t want this to happen, she knew that space would be the best thing for her grandson right now. She trusted Merlin that he would be safe, but there is always that fear that would linger in her stomach from the dark times, over 12 years ago.. He slowly moved away from his Nonna and took his bike, kicking up the stand.

“Quinten.” She called softly. Nonna was crying once again. At least Quinten knew where he got that trait from. “Be safe and take this. Nonna will always find you if you are ever lost.” Wiping away one of the tears, she whimpered and sat back down with an old and dull golden key. The handle formed a beautiful hollow diamond shape where a thick cord weaved itself through. Quinn smiled at his grandmother before taking the key from her and putting it on like a necklace, chuckling mournfully to himself with a nod of his head. Moving slowly, he hopped on his bike and sharply turned out of the back street of the bakery. Once again, he was in the streets where he has navigated for two years since he has been working in the bakery.

It was until the hiccuping and moaning of a car that brought his attention to the street once again. There aren’t any cars to make this odd sound. Looking left and right, the barren street made Quinten question where the sound was coming from. “Hello?” He called, baring closer to the Dursley’s until he saw a car came into view. He couldn’t believe his eyes though, the car was flying! There, he witnessed first hand of a group of red-haired boys that drove the flying car. One of the boys in the back looked down and saw Quinten, his eyes locking with the other and then crying out to the other two boys. Everything was a cacophony of noise from tearing off of the bars on Harry’s window to watching his friend escape into the car with his trunk of wonders and Hedwig. “Harry!” 

Harry looked down from the flying car. “Quinten, what are you doing here?”

“Oh god, a muggle saw us! A muggle saw us! Fred, George, we gotta go!” With a hiccup and burp from the old car, the boys in the front frantically started to drive away. It was slightly slow but building up acceleration. Quinten drove through the grass and roads as he frantically followed the car of redheads plus Harry. He could hear them frantically yelling at each other and moving nervously, looking out the window every now and then to see if Quinten was still there and indeed the persistent child was still following them. “We have to bring him with us or else we will go to Azkaban!” The youngest screeched. “Come on, slow down, bloody hell! I am too young to go!” The car slowly declined and did a terrible landing onto the street. Quinten stopped a few yards behind and hopped off of the bike, running to the backseat of the driver’s side of the car. 

“Ah!” 

Quinten shrieked when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist then sucked him into the car. The door closed with a loud slam and it started to drive off into the night sky. Quinten cried out, trying to get out of the car while scratching or trying to punch the captors. “Quinny, stop it!. Stop it!” Harry pressed towards his friend. He wrapped his arms around the younger male who kept on kicking. “These are my friends, calm down!” Slowly over time, Quinten lightly pants while the energy slowly left his body. “There, there, calm down.” Quinten let out loud breaths, closing his gray eyes before opening them to look at the three redheads. “This here is Ron. The twins in the front are Fred and George. They are all siblings and you…” He pulled Quinten so that he was sitting in between Ron and Harry. Harry let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head, keeping his arms wrapped around Quinten and laying his head on his friend’s shoulder. Quinn was tired from all the bike pedaling and fighting but as Harry wrapped his arms around him tightly, he could feel his eyes drooping ever so softly. “Just… Just go to sleep Quinten.”

“Bloody hell Harry, it is like you tamed him. How the hell…. Did you….” Ron’s voice drifted in and out. Quinten snuggled into Harry’s side, his eyes closed while the warmth developed his right side. Harry’s airy voice rumbled in his head, going down his spine and vibrating in his stomach and heart. His slumber felt like forever as his thoughts made him think that everything was a dream. A magical, queer, and oddity of an afternoon that everything was. Flying cars, speaking of witches and wizards, and the trunk full of mysteries overstimulated his weary mind. Though he did have thoughts of how his grandmother was going to find him. Quinn did leave his bike on the side of the street.

“It’s like… Peter Pan. Are we going to Neverland?” Quinten murmured to Harry softly. He could only hear him chuckle before going to sleep.

His body naturally snuggled to the side of his friend for hours before the warmth soon left his side. “Come on Quinten, we are here. Quinny, please, get up.” The Italian boy snorted lightly and opened his eyes, drowsily moving while Harry took his hand to guide him out of the car. Quinten smiled softly and looked at those emerald green eyes that he has grown to love so much. “This way, quietly.” That nervous face chipped glasses and pale skin that glowed in the morning’s sunrise. He found himself in a house, looking at the pan that was cleaning itself, the knitting needles moving on their own, but most of all-- The magical clock that told them the status of the three boys. Their pictures moved from lost to home.

Ron, the youngest and shortest of the three redheads took a bite of a small roll as if he was inhaling it. The house is enchanting, the exact feeling of comfort and home. Harry and Quentin were both amazed at the magical essence that is entwined in the home. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Ron said with a mouth full of bread.

“I think it’s brilliant.” Quinten nodded in agreement with Harry.

“Just where have you been?” Quinten jumped to his feet and clutched Harry’s arm for protection, moving behind him and shyly peering over his shoulder. It is a bad habit to have but it has saved him on more than one occasion and besides, Harry has always been the courageous one of the two. A woman with curly, shoulder length hair hopped down from the stairs with an angry look on her face before smoothing it out with a happy one once seeing Harry. “Harry, how wonderful to see you here.” Quinten watched as the woman greeted him before going back to scolding her children once again. “You could have been lost! You could have been seen!” 

“They were starving him, mum! They even had bars on his windows!” Ron helplessly told his mother whose rage dwindled but didn’t appreciate the back talk. Everyone nodded in agreement. The woman didn’t stop with her scolding, threatening Ron with putting bars on his window. If anything, she was much scarier than his grandmother when a cake is dropped or annoyed. “Now, let’s get some breakfast.” The woman let out a small huff that deflated her anger and she slowly went to work for making breakfast for the entire family. It was like her demeanor changed and morphed into the food which floated on plates once done. Sausages, eggs, baked beans, and much more that lined the table beautifully. Quinten watched with large eyes while the lady of the house waved her wand around. He couldn’t understand but that was the magical part of it. In wonder and amazement, the plates lined the table with the silverware bouncing their way to their respective places. The smell flooded his nose, creeping through and down his throat where he could taste the food through his mouth without a single bite. They all sat down and Quinn stayed by Harry’s side through and through. A red-haired man came through the front door with a large and bulky handbag. His clothes are drab and look as if he works in some sort of government. Everyone greeted the man and found out the woman’s name is Molly. Quinten kept looking around curiously, seeing new things that he hasn’t noticed but old things that make the newer things pop if that made any sense. 

“Quinny, introduce yourself.” Harry pinched the boy’s leg softly, making the Italian jump and then blush bashfully. He looked at those emerald green eyes which calmed his heart, bringing a soft rosy glow to his cheeks and ears. Harry smiled and then pinched one of the red ears teasingly, letting go when Quinten gave out a soft cry in retort. The two of them laughed softly, their smiles mirroring each other.

A cough interrupted their moment. “Ah, and who are you, dear boy?” 

“O-Oh! Sorry, sir! My name is Quinten Daemon Vermillion but Quinny will simply do.”

Arthur furrowed his brows slightly and chuckled. “Quinny? Now that is a rather… Cute nickname.” The man took a sip of his hot coffee before his eyes widened and looked at the boy once again. “Vermillion? The Red House? You mean, the Vermillion?” Quinten shrugged his shoulders and started to fill his plate with food. The key that was hidden underneath his shirt, he took it out and fiddled with the bejeweled item. “That is the lost key! You are… A Vermillion. They were thought to be dead, so long ago.” 

Quinten’s fingers kept grazing the key before shrugging once again. He could feel the ancient chips and grooves within the key before stopping at the red ruby in the heart of it. “I still don’t understand… I’m just Quinny.” Arthur nodded his head with a smile on his face. 

“You are very modest. Surely you know of your family’s feats?” 

Quinten’s head snapped towards the man and hummed softly in response. Thinking about Arthur’s words, he could only think of his grandmother who must be worried beyond belief. “No, I don’t. My Nonna revealed many things last night before I was kidnapped by your sons who snatched me into the car without a second care.” Harry glanced at his friend before continuing to eat the food on his plate. Arthur did become a bit more interested though, leaning forward to get a better view of the boy. “My Nonna must be so scared. I told her I would be out but not this late. She’s going to have my head.” 

An owl gave out a soft screech before coming through the window and slamming onto the table, the crash landing making Quinten grimace with displeasure, worried that the owl might be hurt. Percy, another sibling of Ronald and the twins, stood up and retrieved the letters from the owl. Handing them out, he handed his father the Daily Prophet, a newspaper with moving pictures and changing titles. Harry smiled while Quinten was handed his letter. “I knew it.” He whispered, his green eyes looking at Quinten with pride. “I knew you are a wizard.”

“It’s from Hogwarts Harry, just like you said I would. Oh gosh, I wish Nonna was here. What is Hogwarts and… And how do I get these things?” Another owl swooped through the window, the black feathers falling off when it perched itself on the table with grace and dignity that the other owl lacked. The owl hooted softly, putting the letter down before snagging a sausage from Quinten’s pile and leaving. The letter is inscribed in purple writing with a red wax emblem on the back. Two dragons followed each other’s tail like yin and yang, varying from one of the graceful and wise Eastern dragon as the other which is the Western dragon, dominating and fearsome face that was adorned with horns. Quinten could tell that it is his grandmother’s handwriting. Once the seal was broken, the letter unfurled himself from his hands and floated in the air. It formed a mouth.

‘To my dearest and beloved Peaches,

I do hope that you are well. I am informed that you are staying with the Weasley’s right now, and I hope they do not mind that I plan on meeting you at the entrance of Diagon Alley, at Leaky Cauldron. You do not know your family history very well, and that is okay. I wanted you to stay away from it all, to simply raise my grandson to be kind, sweet, and humble-- Much like Harry though his circumstances are different. If you have any questions, please ask me. I would rather have you hear this from me than from newly formed friends. If you would rather, which I know you will, you can stay with Harry for the duration as I get most of the items. 

I heard Gilderoy Lockhart is going to have a book signing! Oh dear, I have been meaning to meet him.

Also, Peaches, Happy Birthday.

Your beloved Nonna,

Giovanna Alba Vermillion. ‘

The letter unfolded itself and slipped itself back into Quinten’s hands. His cheeks were the same rosy color while those ears were beet red with embarrassment. Harry mischievously took this as an opportunity to tease the younger male of the newly discovered nickname. “Shut up.” Quinten weakly told his friend before smiling shyly. Molly could only smile as she put down another serving of eggs on a serving plate. Bantering for a little bit, he could only feel those same butterflies fluttering around his stomach.

“Well, it seems that we are all done tucking in. There is only one place where we can get all of these things, and that is Diagon Alley. I thought Quinten was going to get a Howler from the looks of the enchantment at first.” Molly’s sparkling eyes and happy smile moved things on when everyone finally finished dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be updated every two weeks or once a month. Hopefully, I will post more but there will be approx. 1-2 chapters a month definitely.


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